


stars

by fanfictionandcats



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, cinderella parallels, fairytale AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2013-12-10
Packaged: 2018-01-04 06:42:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1077811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanfictionandcats/pseuds/fanfictionandcats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(written for robbcella week 2013) </p><p>fairtytale AU (Myrcella as Cinderella)</p>
            </blockquote>





	stars

She meets him the night of the ball.

She can see the stars in Winterfell. She can see them in King’s Landing, if she squint past the pollution and smoke and choking paranoia and two-faced devils, but here they are so much clearer. The crisp air is almost too much for her small lungs, used to savoring a breeze.

There are long tables surrounding the outsides of the room, servants darting in and out with bottomless jugs of ale and all around her is cool gray and dark furs.

She is not herself, wearing a dress her stepmother is enraged to see her wearing. But her father tells her she looks beautiful, kisses her cheek briefly, before he’s gone again, into the shifting sea of people moving to the lively beat of a Northman’s waltz.

She hangs back towards the edges of the action, until her eyes land on a man standing directly across the room. She knows it’s probably rude, she should be meek and turn her eyes down but she can’t seem to manage it.  And she realizes it’s  _Robb Stark_ , heir to Winterfell, the Young Wolf. His chin looks freshly shaved, leaning jauntily against the table, listening to something the Starks’ ward is mumbling to him. Suddenly, his eyes flick up to hers and she almost jumps, turning her eyes away and feeling the blush spread to her cheeks.

He appears in front of her, hand extended, asking  _would you like to dance?_  in a deep but kind tone (such a gentleman, she’s heard about the Stark code of honor, so different from anything her family’s ever put their name on).

 _Yes_ _._  She says, perhaps a little too quickly, and they fall into the crowd.

His hand sits on her hip, and her belly flutters. The music is fast and he spins her around so swiftly she starts to laugh, her hair swinging at her back and her heart pounding. She opens her eyes to find him smiling with her. They share something she can’t explain, and she feels her heart stop, as if she’s remembering something she never actually learned.

He’s so different from the men in King’s Landing, pretty and polished. He’s rough, like the landscape he’s born out of, but she is tired of flimsy silk curtains and pretty roses with hidden thorns.

And they’ve stopped dancing, their eyes locked, and she thinks he might feel it too, his hands still holding her. And in his eyes, she can see a future. Happy, with horseback riding through the woods, catching snowflakes with her tongue, wrapped in warm furs.

“Myrcella.”

Her mother’s voice jars her like a siren, and she bites the inside of her cheek.

“ _Myrcella_ _._ ”

And she’s dragged away. She is of Lannister blood, and he is a Stark. And no matter how much she  _wants_ , she can never be rid of who she is.

With her mother’s claws against her arm, she looks back over her shoulder at the fading image of the boy, still standing in the spot she left him, staring after her with his thick red-brown hair and deep river-eyes.

 _I’m sorry_  she tells him in her head, and she hopes he hears.


End file.
